


Yellow Fever: Now With More Angels

by waywardavengers (herax97)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coming Out, Cuddling & Snuggling, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Ghost Sickness, Humor, M/M, Romance, Smut, Suspense, Two Shot, rated m for second part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 13:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herax97/pseuds/waywardavengers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Please tell me you have good news,” he said and the bed dipped as Sam sat down next to him, both pairs of eyes fixed on the angel. </p><p>“Sort of,” Sam sighed and Dean groaned. Things never really could be simple for them.</p><p>“I described.... well, that-” he gestured towards Castiel, whose head snapped up as if on cue, eyes once more flitting wildly around the room, “-and the first thing Bobby thought of? Ghost sickness.”</p><p>In which Castiel literally tried to get into Dean's bed, if only to burrow under the covers to hide. Of course, ghost sickness isn't just fun and games or in Dean's case, having an all-mighty angel of the lord cuddle up to you for protection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Destiel fic so judge not. Please? I'll cry... Un-BETAd so all mistakes (of which I'm sure there are plenty because I'm lazy) are mine. Might re-read and fix later but really, I doubt it. Enjoy!  
> Edit: I've gone over and fixed a few things!

Dean shifted on the bed, eyes scrunched up to match his tense body. Disconcerting images flashed through his subconscious mind and his heart was pounding as the shouting audible to only his ears grew in volume. And then his eyes snapped open and he let out a deep, slightly shaky breath. Before he could even start to consider whether he wanted to attempt sleep again or not, the hunter felt something move beside him and realized that it was probably the same thing that had woken him up in the first place. 

He was resting on his left side so he didn't have a clue as to what was responsible for the shifting. All he knew was that he had to kill it before it most likely killed him. Heart still hammering against his ribcage, Dean's hand slowly felt for the knife he knew was resting under his pillow. As soon as his fingers closed around the familiar handle, he rolled over, pinning down whatever had made the stupid decision to attack him in his sleep. 

The knife was raised in the air, ready to kill but before he could cut any throats, he realized that the pair of blue eyes staring up at him in confusion were all too familiar. “Cas?”

Instead of the accustomary 'Hello, Dean,' the hunter had grown so used to, Castiel just stared at the blade, moonlight glinting off its sharp edge. Carefully, Dean lowered the knife, the angel's eyes following it warily. When Cas nervously gulped, even Dean's sleep muddled mind could piece together that something was wrong. Way wrong. The heavenly member of their trio needed help.

Remembering his current position practically straddling what he'd wrongly assumed was a threat, he clambered onto the floor, standing up straight and placing the knife on the nightstand. Dean cleared his throat and regained his composure, eyes locked on Cas as he moved to sit up on the bed. 

His eyes were darting around the room and the angel's usually ruler straight spine was crouched, his posture defensive, guarded. Oh yeah, something was definitely up. 

“You okay there, Cas?” Dean asked cautiously and was shocked by Castiel's gaze snapping over to him, blue eyes wide. The angel's arms wrapped around his torso and the rise and fall of his chest was rapid as he slowly worked himself towards hyperventilating. 

“Dude, relax,” Dean tried but when he reached out a hand towards Cas's shoulder, the angel flinched away, shrinking even further into himself. 

Dean's hand snapped back like he'd been burned and he watched with unease as blue eyes continued to move around the room. Castiel looked as if he expected someone or something to jump him at any second. A quiet snore from behind the hunter reminded him of Sam's presence and without breaking his eyes from Cas, Dean reached a hand backwards until it landed on the lump on the bed.

“Sam,” he tried, pushing at the over sized body. It earned him a quiet groan. Dean couldn't help but think that if it had been something out for blood that had made its way into their motel room and not Cas, Sam probably would have slept peacefully through the attack. He'd need to kick his little brother's ass for that later. Still not daring to take his eyes off the angel, not that it would make any difference if he decided to flap his wings and bolt, Dean rolled his eyes.

“Goddammit, Sammy, you can catch up on your beauty sleep later. We have a situation here,” he growled, giving his brother a few more forceful shoves. Finally, he felt Sam move on the bed. 

“Dean?” Sam sounded confused, voice raspy with sleep. 

“Who were you expecting, the tooth fairy? Look.” Dean jerked his chin towards Cas, listening to the bed groan as Sam moved. A pair of feet appeared in his peripheral vision and seconds later, his brother was standing next to him. 

“What happened?” he asked as he regarded the angel dubiously, taking in the jerky movements of Cas' head and the way he was flinching at seemingly nothing. 

“Hell if I know,” Dean muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “I wake up and there he is, terrified of his own freaking shadow.”

“Maybe he got scared of your snoring?”

“Shut it, Sammy. This isn't funny. We gotta help the guy.”

Castiel's eyes suddenly landed on the two brothers and it looked as if some clarity slowly seeped back into the blue orbs. “Dean?” His voice was just as gravelly as usual but it cracked nervously on the single word. 

“Cas, what the hell happened to you?” Dean was quick to ask, not knowing how long they had before jittery Castiel returned full force. They needed some answers if they were going to help. He uncrossed his arms but he didn't dare make another move towards the angel just yet. He didn't want to have to watch Cas flinch away like that again.

“I...” Cas started uncertainly, arms still tightly wrapped around himself in protection against something neither human saw or sensed. He swallowed thickly. “I was walking near a cathedral in Missouri when...” another pause, another nervous gulp. Sam and Dean exchanged worried glances. “I felt like someone was trailing me. I was... unnerved.” The angel distractedly rubbed at his throat, staring up at them with wide eyes.

“I came here,” he continued, shooting another nervous glance towards the door leading out to the hallway. “I could still feel the presence. _Can_ still feel the presence.”

“Presence of what, Cas?” Dean asked softly, not wanting to spook the angel.

“I... I don't know.” Blue eyes averted to the ground and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the sound of Castiel's nails scratching against the skin of his throat.

“Wanna explain the nap you decided to take, then?” Dean pushed, blatantly ignoring Sam's questioning stare to the side of his head. If Sasquatch had been awake, he would have known about Castiel's sudden affinity for snuggling. Since he hadn't, Dean decided he didn't get the privilege of knowing. 

Castiel didn't look up and Sam's eyebrows furrowed as the scratching seemed to be getting more frantic. “Is he al-”

In one sudden movement, Cas was on his feet, desperately tugging at the tie around his neck, gasping for air. “Look, man, you gotta relax,” Dean tried, distress audible in his voice as his eyes flitted to the angry red scratches on the angel's neck, visible even in the dim lighting of the motel room. 

As soon as Sam stretched out a hand towards Castiel, the angel jumped back, almost tripping as he hit the bed. “Don't,” he snapped frantically, quickly backing away from the two brothers on unsteady feet. Shaky hands were raised in defense and Dean raised his own as well, chest feeling unusually tight. 

“Get away from me,” he whimpered once his back had hit the wall and he slowly slid down to the floor, trench coat pooling around him as he curled up. Dean and Sam exchanged hopeless looks as Castiel looked around the room, eyes wide and filled with terror. 

“Bobby?” Sam asked quietly, his brow creased in worry.

“Bobby,” Dean confirmed, sighing as his brother nodded and went off to get a cell. Meanwhile, Dean stared hopelessly at Cas, a feeling of unease settling in his stomach. Out of the three of them, the one with the angel radio and the connection to heaven was supposed to be the most stable one. Seeing him like this made Dean's gut churn with worry. They were going to fix whatever it was that was wrong with him and then once they found the son of a bitch that had done this to Cas, Dean was going to rip out its lungs. 

…...

When Sam finally got off the phone after a long conversation, which despite his urging, Dean hadn't been allowed to join, Castiel was still cowering in the corner. Dean had watched him earlier as he'd drawn his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, face hid in the tan trench coat. 

“Please tell me you have good news,” he said and the bed dipped as Sam sat down next to him, both pairs of eyes fixed on the angel. 

“Sort of,” Sam sighed and Dean groaned. Things never really could be simple for them.

“I described.... well, that-” he gestured towards Castiel, whose head snapped up as if on cue, eyes once more flitting wildly around the room, “-and the first thing Bobby thought of? Ghost sickness.”

“What? But he's an-”

“Angel. That's what I said, too. And in theory, angel's shouldn't get... well, sick. But there's something wrong with Cas and ghost sickness is all we have to work with right now.” Sam sighed, pushing himself up off the bed. "You may not remember it when you wimped out but it looked a hell of a lot like this." 

Dean frowned, opening his mouth to let Sam know that he had not 'wimped out', dammit, but he was cut off by his brother's continuing ramble. “I'll try to find one of those shady internet cafes that are always open since someone messed with my laptop and gave it a virus.” The younger brother delivered a pointed stare to Dean who just grinned, giving a careless shrug. Funny how experience still hadn't told Sam to but a password on the laptop- not that Dean wouldn't crack it in a minute. “Maybe there were some strange deaths near that cathedral or whatever that Cas was hanging around. There can't be that many cathedrals in Missouri, right?”

Dean nodded and Sam dug out a shirt from his duffel bag, throwing it on over the gray T-shirt. When the older brother started moving as well, reaching for his own bag, Sam pointed a finger straight at his face and raised his eyebrows. “You stay here," Sam ordered and looked over at Cas. Dean sighed. He didn't want to stay here with jumpy Cas, it was freaking him out.

“And do what exactly?” Dean shot back, slapping away the offending finger with a glare before he glanced over at Cas as well. The angel had moved again so that his face was once more buried in his arms. He was rocking back and forth in the corner, as if to soothe himself. The sight was disturbing to say the least. 

“I don't know. Just... keep him calm, I guess,” Sam provided not so helpfully and the older brother scoffed. 

“Thanks for the advice, Einstein.”

“You're welcome.” Sam grinned, running a hand through his mess of a hair before he headed for the door, patting Dean's shoulder as he passed. “Bitch,” Dean shouted after his brother, an amused 'jerk' slipping through before the door to the motel room closed.

Silence reigned for a minute until the hunter registered the slight scratching that could be heard. Eyebrows furrowed, he carefully walked over to Castiel, stopping a safe distance of three feet away and crouching down.

“Cas?” he asked tentatively, tilting his head slightly. The scratching stopped and ever so slowly, Castel's head lifted from the tense, crossed arms. The blue eyes were still wide, the dim light coming from the lamp on the desk glinting off the dilated pupils, but then recognition settle in along with the fear. 

“Dean?”

Dean let out a sigh of relief, flopping down onto the ground, his legs awkwardly bending underneath him. “Hey, buddy. You look a little tense.”

A barely visible shudder ran through Cas's body and it made Dean's anger bubble up once more. He was going to freaking flambeau that ghost like a slab of raw meat.

Castiel shifted slightly on the ground before he started scratching at his throat once more, eyes averting from Dean. Angry red marks were starting to form on and around his Adam's apple and a thin line of blood was starting to seep through the worst scratches. 

“You gotta stop scratching, man,” Dean tried, his voice an impressive mix of annoyed and soft. Castiel blatantly ignored him, tilting his head as he desperately clawed at the skin of his throat. “Dude, I'm serious,” he warned but Cas seemed lost to the world as he winced when his nails broke skin once more.

With an aggravated sigh, Dean grabbed hold of the angel's wrist, tugging it away from his throat. Cas looked mildly shocked but he didn't attempt to get out of the grip, which Dean knew he was fully capable of. 

“My throat hurts,” he remarked sourly and Dean frowned. 

“Yeah, no kidding. You're scratching off all your skin,” the hunter shot back and Castiel tugged his hand back halfheartedly. 

“Come on, you big baby,” Dean muttered, clambering to his feet before grabbing hold of the angel's other wrist, tugging him onto his feet. The tiny tremors that seemed to be running down Cas's spine grew when he stood and Dean cursed under his breath. What the hell was he supposed to do with a jumpy angel that currently had the courage of a freaking baby deer?

Just as the annoyed thought crossed through his mind, a car alarm went off in the motel parking lot. At the sound of fluttering, Dean's hands were empty and they dropped back to his sides, the room now missing an angel. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. 

He rubbed his face in annoyance, cursing the world. The car alarm thankfully died down, although the owner of the car was now permanently on Dean's black list. With the silence that now once more engulfed the room, he was able to hear the quiet sound of... whimpering? Really?

Almost warily, Dean turned around and almost laughed at what he saw. Almost. The covers of his bed were haphazardly flung over the lump that now rested in the middle of the bed, a small part of the dirty trench coat visible where it hung off the bed.

“Back in my bed, Cas? I appreciate the effort but it's going to take a bit more than that to get into my pants,” he remarked jokingly, but there was sadly no one around to appreciate the greatness of it. He moved up to the bed, staring down at the lump. If there hadn't been this thought perching heavy on his shoulders, telling him that Castiel might possibly die from this like Dean had come close to, he just might have found the 'four year old that's afraid of thunderstorms' act kinda... adorable. In the way that he was going to tease Cas endlessly about it, of course.

“Cas, come on. Get out of the bed,” Dean said, growing slightly exasperated, tugging at the covers. They didn't budge and the lump on the bed didn't move. “Your shoes are muddy and I have to sleep there. Go make a mess of Sammy's bed.” No response. The hunter groaned. 

After a few more minutes of trying -of which the attempts were threatening, bargaining, pleading and reverse psychology- Dean gave up. If the angel wanted to be a stubborn ass baby and hide under the covers, he wasn't going to give a single fuck. 

With a very loud, very melodramatic sigh, he flopped onto Sammy's bed. He turned on the TV set before he crossed his arms behind his head. Castiel had stopped whimpering and the tremors were slowly dying down so Dean figured there was nothing for him to do now while the angel seemed as content as he possibly could. 

Minutes passed and Dean was hooked in by an old western currently showing on one of the channels, although he always spared a side glance to the lump on the bed every now and then. Of course, Dean wasn't lucky enough to actually get peace, not even for a few minutes. Gunfire drifted through the speakers and into the room and the covers were suddenly tossed into the air before they fluttered back down. Dean startled until he felt something warm pressing against his side. 

“You've gotta be- Cas, what the hell are you doing?” No response except for a quiet whimper. Castiel's hands were actually balled up, clutching at Dean's dirty sleep shirt for dear life, his face buried into Dean's side. 

“Get off me man, this is ridiculous,” Dean said, sounding slightly outraged as he shoved at the angel, pushing himself away. Before he could scoot too far on the bed, blue eyes met his with a kicked puppy dog look worthy of Sam's applause. Maybe he'd been going to Sasquatch for pointers on 'getting Dean to do what you want by staring at him with eyes that are honest to god twinkling.'

In the end, Dean's stubbornness and unwillingness to have Cas freaking cuddled up to him probably would have prevailed against that pleading look if it hadn't been for the fear thatwas visible. And it wasn't even just Cas' eyes. It showed in his face, his posture, and Dean couldn't help but take pity. Remembering his own highly unpleasant experience with ghost sickness, Dean sighed and relaxed back against the headboard, shooting Cas a warning glance when he moved closer. “You can stay on the bed but no cuddling,” he deadpanned and Castiel cocked his head before he gave a jerky nod.

“Alright then,” Dean said carefully, watching warily as Cas also moved against the headboard, once more pulling his knees up to his chest. A track of mud lined the sheets where the shoes had dragged and the equally dirty trench coat pooled around Cas. With a sigh, Dean allowed himself to focus on the movie once more, although with every tremor that ran through Castiel, he found his stomach dropping further and further.

…...

The hissing in his ears was almost overwhelming and after a few more minutes of trying to block it out, Castiel brought his hands up to cover his ears. Of course, it didn't help at all and he screwed his eyes shut, pressing the heels of his hands harder against his ears. 

A hand on his shoulder made him startle to a point where he almost fell off the side of the bed and the hissing was briefly replaced with the sounds of the western and Dean's voice carefully speaking his name. A dark shadow hissed as it quickly flew past and Castiel winced away, barely noticing the concern that was seeping into Dean's stare.

He swallowed thickly but the constriction to his throat was back and blue eyes widened in nothing short of panic as he started to scratch at his throat again in an attempt to get rid of the band that felt like it was choking him. Feeling his nails break skin, his face contorted into an even more panicked expression because he just wasn't getting rid of the noose! Blood was starting to gather under his nails when he felt hands grab at both his wrists. 

Jerking away from the touch, Castiel scrambled to stand up from the bed and after only a second of persisting, Dean let go. Another shadow figure flew past and the angel jerked, stumbling backwards into the middle of the room, not even aware of Dean swiftly getting up to help. 

As soon as Castiel turned around, his eyes met a familiar, green eyed stare. Except the usually vibrant eyes he'd grown so fond of were now cold and he faltered as he took a step back. Dean stared down at him, a sneer playing on his lips. “Don't tell me you're afraid, Cas?” he asked tauntingly and Castiel attempted to swallow, throat tight and pained. 

“Go figure. Me and Sam get stuck with the runt of the angel squat. I can't even get my ass saved by a real angel. Oh, no. I get stuck with your feathered ass and what good are you, huh?” Dean continued and Castiel's eyes were wide with shock and disbelief.

“But-” was the only thing he managed to choke out before Dean stepped forward, strong hands he used to associate with comforting touches now wrapping around his neck, replacing the phantom noose. 

“You're not my friend. You're not my ally.” Castiel's heart was pounding so hard he was sure it had to burst out of his chest soon, even though that defied all laws of physics. And with how rapidly he was breathing, the choke hold around his neck was in no way helping. “You're not fucking worthy, Cas. You don't think you deserve to be around us and you're right. Because you know what? You're gonna get us killed. Me and Sam. When we die, it'll all be on you.”

“Dean, please,” Castiel barely managed to rasp before the grip on his throat tightened. He clawed desperately at the hands and the unfamiliar sensation of tears pricking at his eyes caught him off guard. 

“I don't care about you,” Dean continued bitterly. “You think I fucking like you?” A sharp, cold laugh that made Castiel's insides twist. “Don't kid yourself, Cas.”

Castiel was no stranger to pain. He had fought his way through to the deepest pits of hell and suffered through things that would kill a human in hours. But this? This had to be the most painful thing he'd ever endured. Because it wasn't just that his body was wracking with shivers and he was gasping for air. It was everything but the physical pain that hurt. He finally understood what was being spoken of in all those shows Dean watched when Sam was out. When people talked about their heart breaking. Describing the way they could literally feel the organ crack and fall into wrecked, useless pieces. As an angel, Cas shouldn't ever have experienced this but he was. And it hurt. It really hurt. 

The dark shadows continued to crowd them and Dean continued to smirk darkly. The hissing and screaming that filled his ears should have blocked out Dean's words but they didn't. Cas wished, prayed to his father that they would, but there was no such luck for him.

“You? You're nothing to me,” Dean spat and Castiel felt a dull pain in his left arm that quickly intensified. "We've only been keeping you around to use you." His heart's beating faltered in its rhythm. "Good for nothing-" Cas' knees felt like they were about to buckle, "-piece of shit-" he gasped hopelessly for breath once again, lungs burning, "-worthless excuse for an angel." Cas was starting to think that maybe he was right. Maybe hearts really were incapable of physically breaking. Maybe this was just his vessel having a heart attack. 

…...

“Cas, you have to snap out of it,” Dean desperately tried, hands gripping at Castiel's upper arms so tightly that he was sure that someone without angel mojo would have large hand shaped bruises by tomorrow. But that was the least of their problems. 

Castiel was starting to sweat profusely, grasping and clawing at something Dean couldn't see but was apparently attempting to choke the angel. And when the choked 'Dean, please,' escaped Cas, the terrified blue eyes locked on his, Dean's chest twisted and constricted, making him feel like a freaking wrung rag. Castiel's eyes were glassy, unfocused, but the pure fear was still so clear and he was looking straight at Dean like he was the cause.

“Cas, please,” Dean tried again, louder this time, not even bothering to hide the desperate tint to his tone because who was going to judge him?

For a brief second, Castiel's eyes lost that unfocused glaze and Dean felt relief wash over him. It lasted for all of four seconds as the blue eyes screwed shut in pain and Cas doubled over. Dean kept his grip on Cas' arms tight, green eyes now wide in panic as well, confused and startled thoughts racing through his head. Is he dying? Heart attack? Can angels even have heart attacks? This is so fucking messed up.

Slowly, Dean sunk to the floor, Castiel pulling him down. The angel's face was still scrunched up, hands no longer clawing at his raw and bloody throat but instead clutching at his chest. Cas gasped and Dean forcefully shoved down the panic bubbling up. “Dammit, Cas! You are not dying from a freaking heart attack,” he growled, giving the tense body in his arms an aggressive shake. Nothing. “Cas! Don't you dare! Castiel!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm not sorry about the cliffhanger!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this instead of studying. If I fail school, I blame Supernatural. Enjoy the latter installment of this!

Castiel was vaguely aware of someone to speaking to him but he didn't want to focus on understanding what was being said. Didn't want anymore of Dean's words cutting into him in a way no one else's words, angel or human, had ever managed to. The shadows were still crowding him, still pushing and clawing and taunting and Cas closed his eyes completely, hoping that if he closed them tight enough, it would all just go away.

As the beating of his heart slowed and the shallow gasps got further apart, they slid open just to reveal a glimpse of Dean still smirking down at him. “Good riddance,” he muttered before Castiel's consciousness faded completely, his heart going still.

…....

“Cas!” Dean checked the pulse again. Nothing. Placing his hands under Cas' nose, he felt for a breath. No air hit his skin and he tried to remember if it was vital for angel's to breathe. He knew his mind's attempts at coming up with arguments that Cas wasn't dead were getting weak. The angel was dead still in Dean's arms, not breathing, his damn heart wasn't even beating. 

He'd tried any form of CPR he could remember on the guy and his lips still felt _wrong_ after the crappy attempt at mouth to mouth. Cas' lips had been so cold and unmoving and Dean had felt so stupid, not even sure if it was doing any good, so he hadn't spent too much time on it. Instead, he'd simply resulted to shaking the angel a few more times because he still couldn't believe it. Cas was the indestructible one. No matter what, he was there to help them out or heal them. He shouldn't have been able to die. He couldn't.

Dean hadn't even realized his hands were shaking until they were jittering against the dirty motel ground. He drew in a deep breath that didn't do shit, still trying to process the cold, literally, hard facts in his arms. Cas was gone. “You stupid bastard,” Dean muttered under his breath, at a loss for anything else to say, jaw tensing. “We're gonna get our asses kicked into the ground without you. You know that, right?”

What even happened to Cas now? Where was his grace? When Sammy had been gone, Dean had been able to cling onto the hope of saving him with a deal. He was pretty sure demons didn't do angel-reviving. Dean didn't know of anything that did angel-reviving except God and he was pretty sure Cas had already used his 'get out of jail free' card after Lucifer had blown him into pieces. This was different than losing Sam. Because Dean didn't have any hope of Cas coming back. So he did what only Cas had gotten him to do. He prayed.

“Cas? I... I don't know if your angely mojo is still somewhere out there or if it's gone. I don't know if you can hear me. But if you can... Come back? You've saved mine and Sammy's ass more times than we can count. We can't afford to lose you. Me and Sam need you, man. I need you. And not just cause you help clean up when I screw up and shit hits the fan. You're my friend, Cas. And you can't be dead. You can't just leave me...

“Damn it, this is so stupid...” Dean grumbled under his breath because of course, nothing happened. He traced the seams of the ridiculous trench coat, watching Cas' -or Jimmy's- face. He didn't even look serene. Just blank. 

His body was starting to ache from the time spent on the ground and with a heavy sigh, Dean started moving Cas to stand up. He needed to call Sam and tell him what had happened. The thoughts made his limbs feel heavy and his chest constricted. Just as he shifted, it happened. Cas' chest raised. 

Dean froze completely, his breath catching in his throat and he only dared to breathe again when he was in suffer of asphyxiating himself. He stared and he stared, waiting, hoping, praying to see that movement again. To see anything. Nothing happened and Dean's hopes plummeted even further. He cursed himself and he cursed Cas and he cursed the goddamn ghost sickness and holy crap, his chest actually was moving!

It was a tiny movement; Dean almost missed it but then it happened again, the apparent breath larger this time.

Hope swelled up within Dean and he clutched at Castiel tighter, watching as his chest rose and fell and then finally, chapped lips parted and the angel gasped in a breath. Dean let out a laugh of pure relief and joy as Cas continued to draw in breaths, the scrapes and cuts on his throat shrinking and finally disappearing, not leaving a single trace.

“Cas?” Dean asked warily, not able to help a stupid grin from breaking out on his face when Cas' eyes finally fluttered open. He was practically hugging Cas right now, although it was a fairly awkward hug in their positions, but Dean didn't give two craps. Cas was alive and breathing and blinking and staring at him with that curious expression that always drove him crazy but was just making him laugh now.

“Dean,” Cas replied but there was something off about the single syllable. It wasn't formal or even scolding like it sometimes tended to be. It was soft and Dean realized after way too long that he was still clutching onto Castiel for dear life. “That was unpleasant.”

Dean let out an unattractive snort of a laugh he was sure Sam would have mocked him about into eternity but Cas, as per usual, didn't seem to find anything wrong with it. “I should probably let go of you,” he said, loosening his grip on Cas. That was about as far as he got, Castiel pulling him back in and Dean didn't realize their mouths were on a collision course until the same lips he'd been trying to force life through earlier were now moving over his, very much alive and very much knowing what they were doing.

It took longer than Dean would ever, _ever_ , be willing to admit, for him to actually form a thought more coherent than the string of curse words and it moved from that to 'he's actually good at this' to 'holy fuck, I'm kissing Cas' to 'holy fuck, I'm kissing Cas and I like it.'

That revelation was enough for Dean to pull away and he was met with eyes just as shocked as his own. “You didn't like that,” Cas stated, like he was conversing about the weather. Of course, his statement was about as true as if he'd been talking about how sunny it was outside while a goddamn tornado was tossing cars left and right.

“First, you're going to tell me how the hell you're alive,” Dean said, poking a finger into Cas' chest, not doing anything to move them from their positions with Dean practically holding the angel against his chest. Yes, his head was currently of whirlwind of thoughts along the lines of 'yes, you like dick, don't pretend you didn't know because you've been thinking about tapping that for the last few months.' Sometimes Dean really hated his inner monologue. 

“Then, you're going to kiss me again and I'm going to show you how much I didn't not like that.”

…....

“Finding and getting rid off the ghost turned out to be much easier once my vessel was no longer troubling me with a heart attack. I... abandoned ship, to phrase it like you would. I planned to return and heal Jimmy as soon as I'd disposed of him -a priest who had been hung for his crimes against the church despite being innocent. It explains the noose and the sudden appearance of the ghost sickness once I passed the church he was buried at.

“When I came back, I... I heard you praying. To me. That's why I kissed you.” Cas became quiet after that, fiddling with the hands that are folded in his lap. They're sitting at the foot of the bed, Dean watching the side of Cas' face as he'd spoken. 

It had been pretty damn hard to keep his focus on what Cas was saying instead of allowing his eyes to wander to the mouth moving around every syllable, wondering how he could make each and every kiss so drastically different from the brief one he'd shared with Castiel earlier. Finally, however, he'd actually started listening to what the angel was explaining and all thoughts of experimenting on this new found appreciating for kissing someone with even more stubble than himself was pushed to the side. For now. Well, up until Cas mentioned the kiss again and the reason behind it.

“You heard that,” Dean repeated awkwardly, trying to remember what exactly he'd said in that prayer. He was pretty sure it went something along the lines of 'I need you, don't leave me' or something equally fitting for a chick-flick. 

“I'm glad I did. Dean, the hallucinations I experienced before my vessel's heart gave out... They were of you.” Cas was silent again and Dean moved just that bit closer, urging him to go on despite the fact that he knew whatever would come out of Cas' mouth would only be painful. “You -it said some things but none of them matter now, Dean. I heard your prayer and I could see your soul and how honest those words were.” Castiel smiled and dammit if Dean's suddenly teenage girl heart didn't skip a freaking beat.

When Castiel seemed to have finished what he intended to say, Dean was pretty much at a loss on how to fill up the silence. So silence reigned until unexpectedly, Cas scooted closer, their thighs touching. “I've told you how I'm alive, even though I was technically never dead.” He wasn't looking at Dean but there were faint signs of a blush creeping up the angel's cheeks.

“And now you want me to make good on my second statement,” Dean said and it wasn't a question because he knew. And now he was grinning. He was grinning like an idiot but he didn't care because Cas also had a small smile on his face and the flush was spreading to his ears, only slightly hidden by the eternal head of bed hair that Dean just wanted to run his fingers through so he did. He ended up running his fingers through the dark locks as he pushed Cas down on the bed, pulling on them and using them to tilt Cas' head so he could lavish the angel's throat with kisses and bites that made him produce a whole symphony of needy sounds.

He wasn't giving himself time to think about just what he was doing and how absolutely terrifying the prospect of what this could mean was. Dean just did what he knew how to do and he knew he was good at and it just fit. The unusual scrape of rough skin against his cheek when his lips moved against Castiel's jaw; the firm chest pressing against his own that replaced the usual feeling of a nice rack; even the deep, throaty groans that were way too deep and should have made Dean uncomfortable in every way possible, didn't. None of these things felt weird. At least nowhere near as weird as how freaky he'd imagined them to be (yeah, his subconscious thoughts might have gotten away from him once, maybe twice after a few too many drinks.)

“Dean,” Cas said suddenly and damn if it didn't feel nice to just allow himself to get turned on by the gravely voice, sounding even raspier after Dean had lavished Cas' throat and jaw with attention. “Dean, if you're going to keep doing that, you're going to have to excuse me.”

Reluctantly, Dean stopped working on putting another mark on the angel's -his angel's- throat, silently grateful that he could get rid of them within seconds yet a small part of him hoping he wouldn't. Green eyes met blue with slight confusion and yeah, Dean hadn't been misled by the sounds Cas had been making; the blown pupils were clue enough. The small knot of worry that had started to settle when Castiel had interrupted dissipated as he realized just _why_ Cas was wanting to excuse himself.

As Dean's eyes traveled down to the firm length pressing against his thigh, so did Cas' and a blush crawled up the angel's cheeks again. “I'm sorry, Dean, I will take my lea- oh. _Oh, Dean,_ ” he practically whined and Dean grinned proudly, continuing to rub Cas through the material of his suit pants. Yeah, it was kinda weird rubbing off another guy but the sounds Cas was making... God, it was so worth it. The creases of doubt that had been present in Cas' face melted away, replaced by a look of pure ecstasy that had Dean's jeans getting even tighter.

So Dean kissed him again, because he could, and was surprised by the fervent way Cas retaliated. The first testing slip of tongue was allowed without hesitation and Dean took his sweet time exploring every dip and ridge of Castiel's mouth, finding and charting every difference between him and every girl he'd brought back to the motel. Each and every thing he could find, the way Cas tasted, the way he felt, the way he moaned into Dean's mouth and kissed him like he was a drowning man and Dean's breath was the only thing keeping him alive. All of those were just so, so much better.

“Dean, please,” Cas suddenly panted and the desperation shining through the blue eyes was enough to make Dean want to get this moving along himself.

“Yeah, alright,” Dean breathed back, placing one last chaste kiss on the gorgeous lips before suddenly shifting his weight and scooting down the bed. He was now straddling Cas' thighs and the clear outline of his straining hard on against the black material made Dean's mouth go dry. Hands moving towards the belt buckle, a sense of anxiety suddenly rushed over Dean but one look at Cas' face, the way he was watching him so intently, got rid of every last trace of doubt.

What was also gotten rid off were Castiel's pants, followed by the plain, white boxers that had initially made Dean laugh until Cas had glared at him in warning. He regained his composure, focusing all of his attention on the erection straining against Cas' stomach. Dean swallowed thickly, whether from the nervous anxiety curdling in the back of his mind or the sharp pang of lust that hit him low in his stomach, he wasn't sure.

Carefully, he leaned forward just so, wrapping his fingers around Castiel's shaft. The angel's head fell back against the mattress, mouth open in a silent gasp and Dean felt his dick throb at the sight. At the first stroke of his hand, Cas' hips bucked up and Dean chuckle, the sound throaty and raw from lust. “Easy there, cowboy,” he instructed, using his free hand to push Cas' hips down and hold him still there. It earned him a halfhearted look of annoyance that quickly faded. 

Dean started moving his hand over the sensitive flesh again, slowly at first, trying out what he knew he liked doing to himself and discovering things that made Cas groan and gasp and writhe under his touch. As he started picking up speed, hand moving over Castiel's length with more confidence now, Dean licked his lips subconsciously, taking in the sight. Cas was now clutching at the sheets, his fingers sometimes curling around the material before loosening, clenching whenever Dean turned his wrist in a particular way or added just that little bit of pressure that made Cas emit that whining noise again.

It didn't take long for Dean to make Cas a gasping, trembling mess, his hips jerking out of rhythm and all just from Dean's touch. It made the hunter feel such a strange sense of accomplishment and just knowing that he was the only one that had ever turned Cas to this- was the only one that had gotten to see the usually proper angel groaning every time Dean as much as dared to slow the pace- made it impossible for Dean not to surge forward suddenly and claim Cas' lips with his own. 

The strangled moan he was rewarded with made Dean remember just how painfully hard he was but he'd suffer through it because he could see it in Cas' face, in the blissfully shut eyes and could hear it in the hitching of his breath that he was close. Dean started changing the pressure his fingers were applying to Cas' shaft, wanting to make him find his release just for Dean; just from the way Dean was touching him and taking care of him. Glancing back up at Cas' face, taking in the now screwed shut eyes and creased forehead, Dean realized Cas was holding back.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean murmured into his ear, earning a broken gasp, “just let go.” He squeezed Castiel's length purposefully and it made the angel's hips buck. Cas still refused to open his eyes. “Cas, look at me,” Dean breathed against the shell of his ear, giving it a gentle nibble and blue eyes opened hesitantly.

“There we go,” Dean said encouragingly, brushing his nose against Cas' jaw before he continued to murmur. “I've got you, Cas. Just let it go. I've got you.” He scraped his teeth against the sensitive stretch of skin beneath his ear. “Come for me, Cas.”

With a gentle brush of his thumb over the tip of Castiel's length, the angel's back arched up off the bed, his eyes wide as with a final plead of Dean's name, he spilled his release. Dean smirked triumphantly, unbuttoning Cas' shirt as he worked on slowing his breathing, still shaking slightly as his first ever feeling of post-coital bliss settled in. 

Dean pulled off his now soiled shirt, tossing it off to the side. He ran his hands up the exposed strip of Castiel's chest, placing a few kisses underneath his sternum before suddenly, strong hands grabbed his shoulders and he found himself rolled onto his back.

Cas loomed over him, his forehead damp with sweat, a purposeful look in his eyes. “Now you,” he rasped and even though Dean hadn't thought it was possible, more blood rushed down to his groin and he just prayed to whatever higher being that could hear him that he wouldn't freaking _pass out_ because no way was he missing this.

“You don't have to do this, Cas,” Dean gasped at Castiel's first, almost curious touch to the straining bulge in Dean's jeans. Cas gave him a stern look and nodded, applying more pressure as he started to rub him rhythmically and damn, Dean could have just come from the touch and that look alone. 

“I want to,” Cas growled back and yeah, Dean wasn't going to argue as the angel suddenly shoved his hand down Dean's pants, slim fingers wrapping around his length. Dean let out a drawn out sigh, head wanting to fall back against the pillows but he resisted, wanting to watch Cas -shirt open, pants gone and hair messier than usual- as he stared back curiously. 

“Cas, you gotta get my pants off, dude,” he breathed when it seemed the angel was just about content with holding Dean and _not moving_ An apologetic look flashed across the angel's face and Dean groaned at the loss of contact when Cas removed his hand. However, Cas wasted no time in practically shoving Dean's pants down, starting to touch Dean again with movements as tentative as the hunter's had been to begin with.

Just from watching Cas squirm earlier had been enough to get Dean going pretty far but he was holding back because the determined look in Cas' eyes was sexy as all hell and when Dean begged for more pressure, the angel complied. Finally, Dean gave in, head falling back against the mattress as he lost himself in Castiel's touch, the sound of his heavy breathing audible in between Dean's pleased hums and quiet moans of Cas' name. And then he felt it. The sudden wetness running up the length of his shaft before the warmth enveloped the tip and started traveling down. 

Dean made no attempt to stifle his groan and he propped himself up on his elbows to see Castiel's head slowly bobbing up and down his length. “Cas, you really don't have to- oh, fuck, Cas.” The sight was addicting and the feel even more and Dean raked his hand into the dark locks, rubbing Cas' scalp encouragingly. Dean had received many blow jobs in his lifetime and he could feel Castiel's inexperience but it did nothing to lessen the pleasure coursing through Dean's veins.

The first scrape of teeth, accidental or not, against the over-stimulated flesh was all it took and Dean's hips bucked hopelessly. “Cas, you gotta- shit, I'm gonna-”His words stuttered off and he groaned Cas name, along with some intricate swear words as the curled up ball of tension low in his stomach unfurled. His hand tightened in Castiel's hair as a response but Cas was making no attempt to move.

Dean's hazy mind registered the angel swallowing it all down and Dean swore it practically made him hard again. “I also learned that from the pizza man,” he said, all gravely voice and eyes that are cutting through Dean in a way they never have before. Panting and staring up at Cas with a mix of lust, admiration and amusement, Dean suddenly moved forward to grab Castiel's shirt. He shoved the material off his shoulders before he tugged the angel down to lie next to him. He surged in to press his lips greedily against Cas' and still, the angel moaned into Dean's mouth and the sound had no less of an effect on Dean than it had before.

Once Dean finally came up for breath, Cas looked about as pleased as Dean had ever seen him. Lying back down, Dean did something he would to this day vehemently refuse was cuddling, but was basically him trying to get his arms (and legs) around as much of Castiel as he possibly could, spreading the covers over them. If he could have removed the molecules between their sweaty skin then he would have.

Moments passed in silence and Dean would have wondered if Cas was sleeping if he didn't have the knowledge that angel's didn't sleep. Well, on a regular basis that was. “What are we now, Dean?” Cas suddenly asked and Dean was too sleepy to let the question terrify him.

Instead, he shrugged, the movement jostling Cas with how close they were lying. “We're still just Dean and Cas,” he said, holding him a little bit closer to his body and reveling in the way that Cas seemed to want to melt into him. “Except now I get to do this.” Dean placed a kiss on Cas' shoulder, grinning. Cas turned around to face him, a small, almost shy smile on his lips and Dean couldn't stand it. He swooped in, kissing him lazily and the feeling of pure and utter happiness and content pulsing off Castiel and inside Dean's chest are almost palpable.

“And we get to do _that_ again?” Cas asked when they finally pulled apart, raising his eyebrows hopefully. “I get to touch you like that again?”

Dean's groan was completely too pleased and he nodded, kissing Castiel once more because he could feel himself slowly getting addicted to the taste of his mouth, the feeling of it quirking up into a smile every time their lips met. Just getting addicted to Cas, now that he had finally just allowed himself to stop being so afraid, so in denial. It was a relief. The fact that he'd put all of this off for so long, when they could have been sharing heat and breath and everything else so much sooner should have pissed him off but he just couldn't find it in his heavy bones and tired body to give a damn. All that mattered was that he had Cas now. Fully, utterly and completely. The angel was truly his.

The door to the motel room suddenly unlocked. “Dean, I think I found the ghost that's responsible for Cas'...”

“Hiya, Sammy.”

“Hello, Sam.”

“...

“This isn't what I meant when I told you to keep him calm, Dean! I can't leave you alone for an hour and you're already- You know what, I'm getting a separate room, it smells disgusting in here.”

“Love you too, Sam!” Dean shouted before the door slammed and he laughed, huddling back into the crook of Castiel's shoulder.

Soon after, the lights were turned off and it didn't take long for Dean to start dozing off. He was almost asleep when he heard it but he did. A whisper against the side of his face, almost inaudible. “Love you too, Dean,” Cas had murmured and Dean didn't know whether or not the angel thought he was awake but he didn't care. His heart swelled and he simply help Cas tighter throughout the night, knowing that when the time came and Cas would hopefully utter these words again, Dean would be able to reply. He'd be able to keep his angel with him forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time posting anything M-rated so any criticism would be very VERY much appreciated! (Seriously, comments (and kudos) make me weep unicorns, cupcakes and angel wings). Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!


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